by Strauss, Lee
I was stricken by the truth of her words. Zoe could have me, but it meant a life on the run, full of dangers and uncertainties. She almost died more than once on my watch. I’d never forgive myself if something ever happened to her.
If I left her here she’d be safe. She’d be healthy and even if she didn’t live as long as her fellow GAPs, she’d probably live longer than if she stayed with me.
I swallowed and pushed hair off my face. “I want you to know that I hear what you’re saying. But, ultimately, it’s Zoe’s decision.” My heart tightened as I heard myself speak. “I’ll leave her alone if she wants me to.”
She sniffed in distaste. “Zoe isn’t in a right state of mind to make her own decisions. You’ve got her brainwashed!”
I crossed my arms, and bluffed my victory.
“Look,” she started. “I’ll call off the manhunt. I can guarantee that your face will be removed from all the billboards and internet ads searching for you. Nationwide.”
“No deal.”
She stepped through the door, but turned to say one last thing. “My offer stands for twenty-four hours. Think of what you could do with fifty grand and your freedom.”
The door to the garage clicked shut and I was alone in the cavernous Vanderveen house. Well, not alone, alone. The humanoid was there, standing in the corner, its eyes staring at nothing. It looked eerily real, and much too much like a younger version of my mother. Tanned, firm skin, high cheekbones, green eyes, brown hair pulled back in a low bun.
I despised these people.
I slumped into the comfort of the faux-leather couch to wait it out. How long before Zoe’s operation was over and I could see her again. Would they let me in the hospital? Probably not.
Fine, I’d just stay here, refuse to move.
I spoke to the humanoid. “Could I get something to eat?”
It looked at me with empty eyes and smiled. A shiver ran down my spine. “Would you like a ham sandwich?” it asked. I could just barely detect the animation in the tone of its voice. “Or if you prefer, I could provide a slice of lasagna.”
“Ham sandwich.” It would be something grown in a lab, not real ham. I knew that, but protein none the less.
I closed my eyes and dozed off, and startled myself awake when I started dreaming of Zoe. I checked the time on my ComRing. She’d been gone an hour.
The sandwich and a glass of milk waited for me on the coffee table. Thick slices of fresh bread with ham, cheese and lettuce sticking out. My appetite was immediately awakened and I ate it in rapid time.
I finished the cold glass of milk, feeling like I’d just gone to food heaven, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Now all I had left to do was wait. Maybe I should have a shower. There was one in Liam’s room.
I was past the open staircase and halfway down the hall when my ComRing buzzed. I stopped short. It must be Anthony. No one else knew I had this.
I was wrong.
It was Skye. She must’ve gotten my connection from Anthony.
“Noah,” she said breathlessly. Even in the three inch hologram I could see she looked haggard. Ivy cried in the background.
“I’m glad you called, but I really shouldn’t …”
“Noah, listen to me! They took Jonathon!”
My blood drained to my feet. I knew what she meant before my mouth uttered, “Who?”
“The guerilla recruiters. They’re going to turn him into a cyborg and force him to fight in the army.” Her sobs echoed from my ComRing off the wide, hallway walls. “They said we can have him back for fifty thousand dollars if we pay it within two days. Where are we going to get that kind of money in that amount of time?”
I fell against the wall and slid to the cool, black tiles on the floor. I squeezed my eyes tight, pushing back at the blackness. Oh, God. This couldn’t be happening.
They had Jonathon.
I could get him back for fifty grand. Then same amount Alison just offered. I smacked the floor. The woman had played me!
She put me in the horrible, impossible position of having to choose. Stay with Zoe, or help my brother?
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I choked out. “I’ll have the money.”
Alison had won. Zoe would be safe, but she’d never forgive me.
A roar erupted from my soul. I stormed back to the living room, picked up a crystal lamp and hurled it against the wall. It smashed into a million pieces and shards of glass scattered on the floor. The humanoid remained expressionless as it moved to the broom closet.
I ran through the front door, leaving it wide open, and sprinted down the darkened street toward the north gate. I pumped my arms and breathed out hard, blood surging through my veins and tears running down my face.
Zoe, I’m so sorry.
Goodbye.
PART TWO
Six months later
Chapter 39
ZOE
The sky never changed. The big dipper, little dipper, the Orion—the star constellations were the one constant in this tumultuous world. No matter where I’d lived over the past “lost” year—Utah, Reno, St. Louis and now back in Sol City—the universe remained to wink at me and my foolishness.
I sat in a lawn chair on the beach with my friend Charlotte and the other members of our gang. A fire pit burned brightly against the darkening night sky. Jackson was there, on the opposite side. Isabella wrapped a thin arm around his neck and leaned in close to him. She had always been after Jackson during the four years he was officially my boyfriend—another lifetime ago. She’d snagged him now, and as far as I was concerned, she could have him. Somehow, they deserved each other.
Despite the fact that he had a new girlfriend, Jackson’s gaze kept landing on me. I pretended I didn’t notice, but his blatant stares forced my eyes upward, back to the sky.
The universe was so vast and always altering, but not as quickly as our own planet. The earth was on a rapid course of immense change, something I couldn’t control, and it was easy to forget when confined behind the walls of any GAP city. The earth was a speck in the whole scheme of things, and I, for one, had never felt so small.
I understood now why a certain someone found comfort in believing in God. That maybe there was someone bigger and more powerful than the universe, someone who was miraculously in control of things, despite the fact that the human race was on the road to complete annihilation. That there was something after this, something beautiful and peaceful and alive. That everything thing we did here had an eternal purpose.
“Hey.” A hand waved in front of my face. “You’re all spaced out.”
I didn’t recognize the voice. I turned toward it and squinted. “You’re the new guy,” I said. I’d seen him hanging around town with Jackson, but I hadn’t learned his name.
He leaned forward, propping strong arms against his surf shorts. “I prefer to be called Linden. And yeah, just moved to Sol City from Seattle a few weeks ago.”
I nodded without smiling and stared back at the fire.
“So what do people do around here for fun?” He flashed a grin like his charm would work on me. “Besides getting smoked out at the beach and getting high?”
It was a rhetorical question. All GAP people our age, when not in university, just entertained ourselves with our expensive toys. We surfed, sailed, played virtual video games, engaged in extreme sports, had sex.
I could guess which one Linden was after. I shifted slightly, putting my shoulder between us. It wasn’t because he wasn’t good looking. Of course he was. He was a GAP. But technically I wasn’t one anymore. A fact than no one around this fire pit knew and would ever know if the Vanderveen family continued on with their strong tradition of keeping iron-clad secrets.
The wind changed direction, blowing smoke from the fire in my face. The acrid smell burnt my nostrils and sent me spiraling back to my time spent hiding in the desert half a year ago. It was like the whole experience with Jabez and Mary, Taylor and the girls, a certain someone, the bo
rgs—never even happened. Just a bad dream.
My parents had honored our agreement and hadn’t wiped my memories during the operation that had saved my life. Sometimes, when it was particularly painful to remember (which was practically always), I wished I hadn’t made them promise. How nice it would be to live in oblivion. To just be one of the GAP gang. To play and have fun all the time without remorse or knowledge of a greater evil going on outside the gated walls. To just take off with Linden and make out.
Maybe I’d do that anyway. I needed something to numb the pain. I shifted in my chair again, preparing to disarm him with my smile, but he was already chatting up the girl on his other side.
Fine. Whatever.
I heard a noise behind me and turned. It was nothing, just a couple leaving the group, tripping and giggling. My eyes landed on the dark mansion in the distance, and I quickly turned away. Vanderveen Park was the go-to place to party. I hated it, and I always sat with my back to my grandfather’s house. Too many memories.
“Hey,” Charlotte said as she squeezed her chair in beside me. “How’s it going?”
I forced a grin and nodded. “Good.” Charlotte had become my personal Florence Nightingale since my return. I believed my parents had commissioned her to watch out for me, re: follow-me-where-ever-I-go-and-message-me-five-hundred-times-a-day, to make sure I didn’t do something stupid, like take off again. Or kill myself. The first never tempted me, but the second… Well, there’d been times. I was thankful for Charlotte’s tenacity. I wasn’t exactly great friend material these days.
And better her as my bodyguard than Jackson. I made the mistake of glancing over the fire pit in his direction. He was staring at me again. I pulled my gaze away. I’d never forgive him. Ever, ever. We’d never be friends, and we’d for sure never be more than friends again. My hatred for him rolled off me in thick waves. His ego was so big; he still thought he could soften me.
He’d changed since the night I’d shot him in the leg. Back then his cyborg hardware was primarily an encasement over his skin. Now it was embedded permanently, like the army cyborg soldiers I’d once known. There were others in this group with cyborg enhancements, but they had the toned down civilian versions.
The wind picked up again and I shivered, rubbing my arms with my hands. My fingers rested on the scar on my shoulder. It was grotesque, especially in the perfect GAP world. Alison had begged me to get it fixed, she knew a great plastic surgeon (of course), but I’d refused. I was a dichotomy. I wanted to forget, but I wanted to remember.
I turned to Charlotte. “I’m going home.”
“Oh,” she paused, considering.
“It’s okay, I can find my way.” I said, holding back the sarcasm. I knew she was debating whether she should walk me to my door, and I wondered how much my parents were paying her for all the ways I’d inconvenienced her life over the last six months.
Her forehead wrinkled with hesitation. “Are you sure?”
I stood. “I’m sure.”
Linden’s voice came from behind me. “I’ll walk you home.”
Charlotte and I both swiveled toward him. Charlotte let out a breath of relief. “That would be great. Thanks!”
I huffed indignantly. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No, I want to,” Linden said. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m eager to get to know you.”
What kind of pick-up line was that? I shrugged so his hand would fall off me, waved limply to the crowd and said goodbye. The few that heard said it back. Linden kept pace at my side as I walked along the beach toward my house.
“Just so you know,” I said. “You’re not getting lucky, so if that’s what you’re after, you might as well turn around right now.”
Linden burst out laughing. “I love a girl who gets straight to the point.”
I glared back at him. “All the rumors you’ve heard about me are true.” I picked up my pace, kicking up sand from under my bare feet. “You’ve been warned.”
I heard him chuckle and imagined an amused glint in his eye. It made me dislike him even more.
Linden jogged ahead and twisted to face me, walking backward. “Where’s the fire?”
“Wasn’t it back there?” I flopped a limp arm behind me. “You’re welcome to return to it.”
“You’re far more interesting.”
I stopped. “Why? Because I left Sol City for a year?”
“No, because you left a GAP city for a year. And had a wild adventure. Don’t you know how envious everyone is of you?”
I scowled at him. “They’re not envious. They think I’m crazy. And they’re right.”
I’d been purposely angling my direction toward the ocean forcing Linden to accidentally back into it. His feet sank into the wet sand, slowing him, and I dodged around regaining my lead.
“I didn’t say I disagreed with that,” Linden called after me. “Sanity is overrated.”
I felt my lips pull up into a grin, and I worked hard to snap out of it. Linden was charming; there was no denying it. But I was in no mood to get sucked into phony, flirtatious banter.
I pointed to a well-lit, boxy house made primarily of windows. “That’s my place. I can make it from here. Thanks for extending Charlotte’s security to me.”
“I didn’t realize that was what I was doing,” Linden said. He sighed as he accepted my dismissal. “I’ll see you around?”
I stared back at him looking doubtful. “Maybe.”
Chapter 40
I hated nights.
During the days I could keep myself busy, watch action flicks on my digiwall, swim in our eternity pool, surf, listen to my friends talk frivolous nonsense about fashion and boys.
But at nights it was just me and my memories. Of him.
I was an addict, and I secretly used every night before bed. My drug of choice was his blog, DOWN WITH GAP POLICIES! Only now he was down with a lot more than that. He and his rebel following were down with everything my family stood for, everything my tyrannical grandfather stood for, as president of the United States.
He never gave anything away. Where they were, what their next assignment would be. I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to see his words. I could imagine him sitting there, pushing his too-long hair behind his ears, his brow furrowing over dark, intelligent eyes as he mentally composed his sentences.
For twenty-three hours each day, I resisted his pull. During that time, I hated Noah Brody. Really hated him. He’d broken his promise to me. I had no idea why. When I interrogated my parents, they resolutely denied knowing anything.
They must know why. They must have had something to do with it. But even so, why would Noah respond to them? For a while, I thought he must be dead, but then I read his blog and I could tell he was writing the posts. I knew how he talked.
So I hated him during the days with a fierce, burning hatred, but at night, for one awful, beautiful hour, I let myself love him.
There was a recent post, just listed ten minutes ago. My cyborg heart pounded. It may be mechanical, but my emotions were still very human, and blood surged through my little machine every time I read something new he’d written.
The humanoids are growing in number and aggression. Don’t underestimate their intelligence and their design against humanity.
Paul would laugh out loud if he read this (and he probably did read it). The development and construction of all humanoids in America now fell under the auspices of Sleiman Enterprises. Paul was the head of that department and no new updates to humanoids happened without his authorization. We had two personal humanoids under our roof now: one to cook, and one to clean the house and take care of the yard. Alison was ecstatic. It meant we no longer had to hire naturals from outside our gates.
My ComRing buzzed and Charlotte’s head popped up. “Just checking in.”
“What, you don’t trust Linden to get me home safely?”
She chuckled. “I’m sure he got you there safely, but I just thought may
be you got… a little more.”
I frowned. “Not interested.”
“Zoe,” she pouted. “You have to get back into the playing field. Have a little fun. You’re far too serious.”
We’d had multiple versions of this conversation before. Once she realized I wasn’t going to talk about what happened during the “lost” year, her mandate was to get me to forget it all together and get on with my life now. I couldn’t fault her for that. It was what a good friend would do. “I’m just not ready,” I said gently.
“Well, don’t write Linden off. He’s cute and he’s new, and he’s obviously interested in you.”
“About that, why is he interested in me? I’m assuming he knows… everything. I’d think that’d scare him off.”
“I have the feeling he’s the type who likes a challenge.”
If that were the case, he had his work cut out for him. I faked a yawn. “I’m really tired, Char. I’ll call you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
“Okay, ‘night.”
I stared longingly at Noah’s blog, before telling it to turn off. I climbed into bed, returning to my vow of hatred and dreading the dreams of him I knew would certainly come.
The next morning I followed my routine: took a long shower, got dressed, went down to the kitchen for breakfast where Anne, our humanoid cook, made me scrambled eggs and toast.
“Hello,” she said in a slight monotone voice when I entered the room.
I refused to respond. It wasn’t human, and after seeing what Fred had been capable of, I didn’t want to allow myself to confuse it with one. It would be easy to. It was the latest model with lab grown skin, which made it feel real to the touch. It had electronic “nerves” mapped in its face so it could precisely mimic human expressions. Even the way it moved about was very human-like.
Bette was the cleaning humanoid, and I could hear it using the built-in vac in the next room. Anne and Bette. A and B. So clever. If we acquired a third humanoid, it would be called Cathy or Cam or some other C name.
